A wave of burning seared through my forehead, and then total darkness swallowed me.
"Welcome back."
The familiar voice of the Netherworld receptionist echoed when I staggered back into the smokey Service Hall. My legs wobbled, drained.
Had that really happened?
I croaked, "Why didn't I get any of the money? Everyone burned so much for me, but none of it got through."
The assistant, arms crossed, tilted her head.
"There are many reasons. Maybe they spoke the wrong name when burning. Maybe they thought of someone else while addressing your grave. Inaccurate identification can block the transfer. It's very strict."
My vision swam. "But what if my body isn't even in the grave? I had my ashes scattered in the ocean. What happens then?"
She blinked, then gave me such a pitying smile it chilled my ghost heart.
"If it's just a cenotaph, then no. Offerings won’t link. Doesn't matter how luxurious the tomb is if your real remains aren't there, they go to waste."
I collapsed, face in my palm, wanting to rip out my spectral throat for ever making that declaration about scattering my ashes.
Two days later, after sulking like a phantom bag of laundry in my Underworld rental coffin, I finally sat up.
Enough wallowing.
Who was I? I was Lu Zhen street legend, Beihai's most dazzling rogue. I clawed my way to fourth-in-command of the mighty Weishan Syndicate while alive, from nothing but fists, teeth, and charisma.
And now that I’ve died, I’m supposed to roll over and take ghost poverty? No chance.
If living me could rise from dirt, ghostly me can do the same.
With that thought, I straightened my ragged clothes, patted down my messy hair, and strutted outside to look for work. If the underworld knocked you down, you got back up. That’s rule number one.
But I barely left the block when my insides flipped. A body-crushing weightlessness slammed through my gut. Air and vision twisted into jagged shards, like shattering glass.
"What is happening again?"
The ground vanished beneath me. My soul plummeted into an endless abyss.
Then darkness.
When I stirred, my ears muffled like damp cotton. My eyes adjusted to a hazy blur.
And then,
"You came," a voice rasped from behind.
I turned and almost fell over.
There stood Jiang Yuyan not the neat, composed rival from before.
His unshaven jaw shadowed his face. Black circles etched under his eyes. Bloodshot streaks ran jagged through them. He looked shaky, hollow, drained by weeks of obsession.
He looked wrecked.
I yelped, pointing,
"Who sucked you dry?"
He stared at me. He actually smiled, lips curling weakly as if finally eased of some unbearable burden. Then his knees buckled. His body slumped forward unconscious.
"Wait, don't faceplant "
I dove, forgetting completely that as a ghost, I couldn't touch him.
My arms passed through and with a brutal thud, Jiang crashed face-first onto the floorboards.
"Your face. You're handsome currency, man."
I winced in pain on his behalf. Because winning rival or not, I'd be damned if the pretty-boy of my nightmares broke his face before answering my money questions.
I never expected Jiang Yuyan of all people to dabble in ghostly arts.
During the visitation, he hadn't just grabbed my arm on impulse. He had spilled his own blood as a guide, drawn a ritual, and muttered incantations for an entire day and night to drag my fragile soul out of the Netherworld and tether it back into the human realm.
When he finally stirred awake, his face slid seamlessly back into his poker expression. Calm as ever, he nudged something across the table toward me as if this were all normal business.
It was the small corpse of a kitten.
For the record, it had died naturally. He swiped it off the roadside trash bins. No animal sacrifices involved.
I stared. My ghost-brain fizzled.
"You're kidding me."
But there was no better option. I had the bargaining power of a wet paper towel.
So next thing I knew, I was curled on top of his desk in the limp warm body of a cat, glaring at him with amber eyes.
My voice came out deeper, masculine, but echoing from the tiny jaws of a tabby. If any sane person heard a kitten suddenly rasp, "Why’d you drag me back instead of burning me paper money," they’d probably faint on the spot.
But Jiang didn't flinch. His eyes hardened.
"The day after you dreamt me," he said, "I went to Zhusan Mountain Cemetery. I dug up your urn."
My fur bristled. My tail puffed.
"You bastard. I knew it. You meant to dig me up, desecrate me, stomp on my....."
"Lu Zhen," he cut in. "Your urn was empty."
I blinked, then forced a shameless grin. "Maybe my guys scattered me in the sea. Fitting end for a man as deep and boundless as the ocean."
Jiang ignored my nonsense. His expression did not soften.
"I burned a ritual with your birthdate," he murmured. "I could feel it. Your body is still in the human world. Sealed. Locked with an ancient sorcery I’ve only read about in fragments."
My paws stiffened. I craned my furry head upward, pupils dilating.
He stared back.
"Lu Zhen, do you even remember how you died?"
A chill raced from tail to whiskers. I shot up on the desk, claws skittering.
Something crucial slipped in my chest, a black hole where my memory should have been.
Then I turned, jaw dropped.
"You put me into a neutered tomcat?"
Chapter 02
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